


Bagatelles

by Fishwrites



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Babies, Child Neglect, Domestic, Domestic Violence, Fluff, Kid Fic, Protectiveness, Siblings, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwrites/pseuds/Fishwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Eggsy looked after Daisy, and one time it was the other way around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skylights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylights/gifts).



> (Eggsy as a big brother, bottle feeding and general protectiveness. His nurturing instincts had to start somewhere.)
> 
> An attempt at writing a fic that is not 500K. Follows Eggsy and Diasy in the year or so leading up to kingsman, during kingsman and shortly after. I also realise that 'Daisy' isn't officially canon but I thought it was a name as good as any other! :)

:i:

 _"Sometimes being a brother_  
is even better than being a superhero,"  
– Marc Brown

:i:

 

Dean was shouting again.

The walls were thin here; like the floors, the windows, and the skin of his mother’s wrist when they bruised.

The carpet muffled the ends of the words sometimes, the hard consonants that slurred off. But some made it, hissing through the gaps beneath doors. His mother was shouting too; voice gone from exasperated and thready appeasement to something sand-paper worn.  _Just don’t rile him up,_ she’d say, because the rent had been paid and there was no ice in the fridge for Eggsy’s black eye,  _please, baby, just go to your room next time, alright?_  

Eggsy hated staying in the flat.

 _Before_ , he would have just climbed out his bedroom window – it was on the wrong side of the staircases for sure, but the ceilings were low here, and the next window run was easy to reach. Smooth patches of metal marked the rust, notches accumulated over give long years.

But now –

 

He could hear Daisy, unhappy at the loud noise, tearfully whimpering. The sound was muffled and quiet, but Eggsy could hear them in the gaps of silence caught between the shouting. He looked at his hands, then out the window.

The baby’s cries grew louder. 

Heard Dean break off from his tirade, swearing.

_“…sake, what the hell does she want, go shut her – “_

Eggsy pressed his nails into the flesh of his thumb hard. He looked at the window again. Then stood up abruptly when something beyond the wall crashed with a loud clatter, and Daisy started crying in earnest.

“Fuck it,” he said, leaping for the door and barrelling into the main living area.

 

“ – and the next fucking time I – “ Dean stopped, turning on Eggsy in the doorway, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?  _Eavesdropping,_  were you?”

Eggsy held up both hands, edging quickly towards the crib, “She just needs changin’ is all,” he said, holding Dean’s gaze but not pausing. He risked a glance at his mum, who had one fist pressed against her mouth. She nodded fervently in agreement.

“The bottle’s in the – “ she started.

Eggsy nodded, scooping up Daisy one handed, blankets and all, so he could side step and wrench the fridge open for the bottle of formula. He didn’t dare look away from Dean; whose face was blotchy with shouting, eyes red rimmed and hard.

“Just gonna feed and change her and she’ll be quieter, said Eggsy, keeping his tone low. It was a practiced thing; and reminded Eggsy of his mother. It left a dead taste at the back of his mouth.

Daisy wailed into Eggsy’s jacket, little hands grabbing the fabric. The sound was too loud for the small space, and both Eggsy and his mother flinched with it.

_Formula, bottle, dummy._

Behind Dean’s back, Michelle jerked her head urgently towards the still open door. Eggsy hesitated, because Dean was more than a head taller than his mum, taller and broader than him too and it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t  _fucking fair_  –

Daisy’s face was scrunched up with unhappiness, sniffling with a blocked nose from the crying.

Eggsy ducked out of the kitchen, clutching his baby sister and a cold bottle of formula and let the momentum close the door behind him as he darted back up to the safety of his room.

 

Daisy was still crying, snot and dribble making a wet patch in Eggsy’s jacket. Putting down the formula on his desk, Eggsy adjusted his hold so that she was more comfortably settle in the crook of his arm.

“…’ay, hey, princess,” he said, bouncing her gently, heart in his throat he tried to listen to the voices in the other room over Daisy’s crying. “Shh now, yeah? Eggsy’s got you. Big bruv’s here.”

He cleaned up her face and snot the best he could with the piece of tissue, wiping around her mouth which was still opened in a little ‘O’ of distress.

“Aww, Daise, c’mon,” said Eggsy, glancing worriedly at his bedroom door. He tried to settle her against his shoulder like he had seen his mum do, but all that seemed to accomplish was make Daisy clutch harder at his jacket, one damp hand pat-pat-patting until it found the chain around his neck and  _pulled._

“- Ah, ah,  _ah_ ,” said Eggsy, leaning with the pull so the necklace wouldn’t snap or garrotte him in the process, “No, no pulling. You’re gonna strangle your bruv and then what’cha gonna do huh? Who’s gonna make you dinner? Five star dinner, this is.”

Sliding to the floor and leaning back against his bed, Eggsy held Daisy with just one hand and tried to untangle the little fist from his chain. Daisy’s hand latched onto his thumb instead, pulling it towards her face. The next thing he knew, Daisy was sucking on Eggys’s thumb, her crying hiccupping slowly to a quiet sniffle.

She let go of his jacket to better keep his thumb captive with both of her hands, eyes big and watery.

“ _There_ ,” he said, relief rushing out in a sharp exhale. He let his head drop onto the mattress behind him, stroking the back of Daisy’ hand with his index finger. “There we go.”

“Mrrp,” said Daisy.

She was a warm weight against his lungs, slowly leeching the tight coil of tension behind his ribs. For a minute all he could hear was her breathing, still slightly sniffly, but no longer punctuated by crying or wailing.

He wiggled his thumb gently and her tiny fingers tightened on his hand. She was almost going cross eyed,  she was concentrating so hard – and it was enough for Eggsy to muster up a genuine smile for her.

“You’d rather have my thumb for dinner?” he said, adjusting her on his shoulder, “huh? Should’ve washed my hands before you started, you monkey.”

Daisy, less wary now that it seemed that Eggsy wasn’t going to confiscate his thumb, stared him with wide curious eyes.

Two walls over, there was a loud thump, and more shouting, making Eggsy tense and Daisy go still. Swallowing hard, he got up from the floor, half bent to retrieve Daisy’s dummy from the desk and after much cajoling and nose kisses, regained temporary autonomy over his right thumb.

“Buhhhh,” said Daisy, tugging on his collar.

“Yeah duckie,” said Eggsy, unscrewing the formula bottle with one hand – it got easier with practice – and carefully filling the plastic baby bottle. He nearly spilled some when Daisy began wiggling at the sound of milk splashing, but managed to balance the two.

There was an small second hand microwave beneath his desk, on top of a rickety set of drawers. Eggsy had stolen it for his room when it became apparent that the kitchen was never going to be a Dean-proof space, and Daisy needed her food regardless. He put the bottle in and pushed the worn buttons. Daisy made an inquisitive sound when the microwave started whirring, and the chamber light came on to bathe them in soft yellow.

Eggsy smoothed back her thin baby hair, taking an extra tissue to wipe her chin clean.

“Bet you’re hungry, huh? We’ll let you eat and then change your nappy after, okay?”

He tickled her, poking gently at her tummy and for the first time that evening she broke into a gummy grin, hands waving to grab at his necklace again.

“Nah –  _ah!_  No!” said Eggsy, “No stranglin’ today!”

Daisy let out a high pitched noise of delight and tugged a button instead, and Eggsy had to shush her again. She wasn’t really all that heavy to carry, really; and she seemed to like being held – onesie clad feet nudging sporadically against Eggsy’s stomach as she played with his shirt.

The microwave made a soft ping!, and Eggsy took it out, pouring the formula into a spare mug and letting it cool before pouring it back into the baby bottle and screwing on the lid. He was getting good at this.

Shutting the microwave door with his foot, he made a cursory count – still three packets of clean nappies before he has to stock more – and wrapped the bottle in a old tea towel.

Another thump, this time followed by the sound of something smashing.

_“ – ell I don’t want to fucking hear it, you get me?!”_

The sound of his mother’s voice, too low to make out the words. It wasn’t until Daisy made a protesting noise that he realised he was holding her too tightly. He loosed the cradle of his arm, dropping a kiss to her nose in apology.

“Sorry Daise,” he murmured, toeing off his socks and sitting down slowly on his bed. He scooted backwards until he was in the corner, back to the wall, facing the window. He tucked his legs loosely (easier to jump back up), letting Daisy use his arm and shoulder as a chair before holding the bottle to her mouth and dislodging her dummy with the same hand.

“Mrrrwp!” she said, wriggling with anticipation. One hand came up to steady the bottle as she began sucking, but the other remained fisted in Eggsy’s shirt. He could feel her soft skin, a tiny fist just below the hollow of his own throat. Somehow, it made it easier to swallow; easier to breathe.

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Eggsy quietly, smiling at her because it wasn’t her fault Eggsy had to stay and listen and do nothing – it wasn’t her fault.

“We’ll be okay.”

Daisy hiccupped, eyes growing comically wide with surprise and horror that only a six month old baby could muster. Eggsy shifted his arm slightly so that she bounced, letting the hiccups settle before he offered her the bottle again. He shut his eyes tight, as if that could block out the sound in the living room.

Daisy kept stopping each time there was rise in shouting. Eggsy tilted the bottle, and started humming the first thing that came into his head – a tuneless lullaby – hummed it as loud as he could until there was white buzzing in his head.

“Errrp,” said Daisy, shifting against him and pushing at her bottle.

“Yeah,” said Eggsy, into her soft hair, “Things’ll be okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and alcohol are never good combinations. Eggsy attempts to get Daisy out of the house. A series of unfortunate events ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby slings are involved. Eggsy has got to get his practice in before JB right?

> _**Four.** _

 

Thing’s weren’t okay.

It was one thing to map out the safest path; quite another to stay upon it. Eggsy could remember the first few times it happened, the first few weeks, stretching into months and long repetitive days and nights spent with his ear pressed to the wall – holding his breath every time he heard voices, just in case it was Dean losing his temper.

Long hours passed in static this way; holding his breath and losing an hour on the next exhale – hand cramped from holding onto an old letter opener he hid beneath his pillow.

That was before Daisy.

After Daisy, things were somehow worse and easier at the same time. Easier because there was always someone happy to see him when he got home; Daisy wriggling to be picked up and eager to pat Eggsy on the face with her chubby hands, giggling up a storm when he tickled her. Made his mum happier too. But it was worse because she’d cry when Dean got loud, and cry harder when Dean got annoyed at her crying and – well.

Sometimes Eggsy would feel himself blink awake, cold and tense – only to realise that the loud conversation wasn’t shouting or arguing – just the TV. Sometimes he lay there, half up on his elbows…only falling back down into his pillow when he heard laughter.

It got hard to tell the difference.

It got harder to keep his mouth shut. It was as if he had swallowed so many words and so many punches that they had been filling him up like pebbles in a stream until it overflowed. He always thought it was worth it, to see that twist in Dean’s face – even if it did mean getting beat up after. It upset his mum though, so he tried to keep his head down ( _he just needs to let off a little steam, just… let it go okay baby?_ _Please don’t pick a fight_.)

It was hard; but fists were harder – so Eggsy currently had a shiner the size of a potato and bruises from intimate contact with the ground.

His hands were raw with it, and that’s why he fumbled his phone a little when it rang.

“’Lo,” he said, kicking his heels against the wall he was leaning against.

“Mate,” came his friends voice, “Givin’ you heads up. Dean’s pissed off his face back here and talkin’ about heading home. Says he wants a word.”

Eggsy froze.

“Drunk off his fucking face, yeah?”

“Loud as shit.”

“Fuck,” said Eggsy, his stomach dropping to his shoes in the space of the conversation. He checked his pockets – breathing out a sigh of relief when he found his Oyster card. He had walked all the way here but he’d have ot take the tube to get back before Dean.

“Right, I’m off then – thanks for telling me bruv.”

“Yeah man, you gon’ be okay?”

Eggsy snorted into the receiver.

“When am I not,” he said, already crossing the road and heading right towards the nearest tube stop, “I’ll talk to ya’later, right?”

“Don’t try to punch him.”

“Bugger off, I’ll punch him if I want,” said Eggsy, and ended the call. He stuffed the phone into his jacket pocket, taking the nearestu staircase two at a time. He had a train to catch.

 

 

His mum was home when Eggsy came tearing into the flat, slightly out of breath. She was fixing something in the kitchen sink, and Daisy was napping in her cot.

“Eggsy!” said Michelle, looking happy to see him. The smile quickly faded into a frown, “Baby what’s wrong?”

She turned off the tap, wiping her hands dry on a faded tea towel and tutting as she tried to check his bruise again.

“I _told_ you to keep the ice on it for longer, it looks terrible now –you alright?”

Eggsy waved away her hand.

“Dean’s got himself pissed on his day off,” he said, “Heading home early apparently.”

They both glanced at the battered wall clock – it was barely half past two in the afternoon.

“He ain’t gonna be happy to see me after yesterday,” said Eggsy, “so I’m gonna bugger off for the night. Take Daise with me, don’t want him banging on around her – she’ll get upset.”

Michelle pressed a hand to her eyes, tired. But after a long pause she merely nodded.

“When will you be back?”

“Staying at Jamal’s place,” said Eggsy, “I’ll just pack some of her stuff and we’ll be fine.”

“You’ll keep your phone on?”

Eggsy darted past her and to his room, quickly grabbing the baby carrier that doubled as a bag – shoving Daisy’s essentials into it, and grabbing his phone charger at the same time. He reached under his bed, felt his way past the loose floorboard and counted out two precious ten quid notes – and stuffing those next to Daisy’s nappies, just in case.

Then he ran back into the living room.

Daisy woke with groggy sulkiness, rubbing her eyes her fists – though she seemed happy to see Eggsy, blinking and arms reaching up automatically to be held.

“Hey princess!” he said, obliging her and trying on a grin that didn’t fit. “We’re gonna go for a walk, okay? Big bruv’s gonna take you to the gallery for a nice afternoon out yeah?”

He dressed her quickly with practiced pulls of arms and wriggly legs. Daisy babbled at him, then let out an excited noise when she saw the baby carrier, arms flailing so that she whacked Eggsy accidentally across the mouth. Eggsy winced as her hand caught his split lip, but sent up a prayer that Daisy was in a good mood. Wouldn’t help for her to be in a fuss.

“That’s right,” said Eggsy, pulling on the carrier over his shoulders and lifting Daisy up, over and into it. She was getting heavier, but still small enough to fit comfortably. “You excited?”

“BUH!” said Daisy.

“Here,” said his mum, and Eggsy turned so she could help put a spare water bottle, a packet of baby wipes and more diapers into the pocket beneath Daisy’s seat. Then she pulled out her wallet.

“No – _mum_ ,” said Eggsy, pushing her hand away, “I’m fine I’ve got a spare tenner in – “

Michelle’s mouth thinned into an unhappy flat line. She tried to grab Eggsy by the wrist but he stepped backwards.

“Mum seriously, I got enough,” he said, “it’s not like the museum charges anything.”

“But Eggsy – “

“I’m just gonna give it right back tomorrow! Keep it. Get a nice dinner.”

Eggsy stepped sideways so he could give his mum a hug, without the baby carrier being in the way.

“If you’re sure,” she said, still clutching the crumpled note in her hand.

“Yeah,” said Eggsy, and stayed obligingly still for her to fuss over his eye and the bruise on his cheek some more before saying, “Look we better hop it. Don’t want to run into any fuss on the way out.”

Daisy chose that moment to make a grab for his collar and yanked so that Eggsy had to turn.

“ _Ow_ – yeah, yeah you got my attention, what you want then? Huh?”

Daisy giggled at him, eyes crinkling into crescents.

“You behave for your brother, young lady,” said Michelle, tucking Daisy’s favourite hen toy into the carrier.

“We’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll text you before I get here okay?”

For a minute, his mum looked like she was going to cry. Eggsy felt sick. But then she seemed to rally herself, gave him a last hug and Eggsy pretended, for her sake, that he didn’t feel her stuffing the note into his pocket.

 

 

All things considered, Daisy was a remarkably well-tempered baby.

She only ever made a fuss when things got loud – she hated shouting; even just the loud television – or if she hadn’t been picked up for a while. But otherwise she was a happy baby, quiet save for the occasional burble of noise as they walked long and meandering through the life-model animal exhibits.

Eggsy liked the way she seemed to be happiest when he was around. He was her favourite.

“Aint’ that right?” he said, making funny faces at her as they boarded the bus, “Aye?”

Daisy grinned at him, then hid behind the fluffy butt of her hen toy.

“Uh-uh,” said Eggsy, settling into one of the many spare seats with a groan of relief, “You not foolin’ no one with that face.”

“Beeee _eeh_ ,” said Daisy, and slapped Eggsy on the chin with her toy. She forgot to hold on – and Eggsy had to make an undignified lunge to catch the flying hen before it flew across the aisle.

“Oi,” he said,  arching his back to relieve the ache that was the result of one growing baby and far too much luggage packed into the sling. He half heartedly wiggled the toy in front of Daisy’s face, just to watch her bat at it.

“Say please,” said Eggsy, mooshing the toy’s soft felt beak to Daisy’s cheek. She let out a high pitched squeal of delight and Eggsy quickly hushed her, relinquishing the toy to her tiny clutching hands with a guilty look at the museum staff near the door.

“Okay, okay,” he said, smoothing back her hair out of the way as she bit triumphantly into her toy, “It’s yours. Yours. You’re boss.”

“Mphr,” Daisy agreed, tilting her head so she could lean close to Eggsy’s chest. Her mouth was a little wet from drool, but Eggsy couldn’t be arsed getting a new tissue. He wondered if he could get away with finding a seat somewhere against a wall and just – nap, for a bit. But he had done this enough times to know that someone would poke him awake with disapproval; and Daisy would get too fidgety.

His stomach made a displeased noise, reminding him that he had yet to eat properly.

“Ah-bumpf,” said Daisy, shaking her hen at the nearest zebra, “AH _bumpf_.”

“Zebra,” said Eggsy, taking her hand. She wriggled impatiently, straining towards the animal. “Or in more scientific terms, the unicorn’s long lost cousin. But no touching, Daise.”

“ _BUMPF_ ,” said Daisy, stuffing the hen into Eggys’s nose in protest.

 

It took a good ten minutes to extricate Daisy from the zebras and wild donkeys. Afterwards, Eggsy took a meandering route through the reptile rooms; past the tall glass cases and dim lights set into the wood. He let Daisy press warm damp hands against the glass, eyes big as he narrated their way inaccurately through the lifecycle of crocodiles. He crouched down on his heels so they could peer closer at a display of crocodile eggs the size of Daisy’s head.

“…at the end of the fifth week,” Eggsy read, leaning so Daisy could ogle the eggs better, “the baby crocodiles will begin breaking out of their shells. Look at that one, see? They crack ‘em open from the inside.”

“Egg,” said Daisy.

“Tha’s right,” said Eggsy, and was about to keep reading when he did a double take – nearly falling flat on his arse. “ _What did you just say?!_ ”

Daisy buried her face in her hen toy. Eggsy stared at her, suddenly wide awake. He couldn’t stop grinning.

“Daise! Did you just say your first word? Aww baby!” he poked her in the cheek and she reciprocated by offering him the un-chewed part of the hen toy. “I’ll pass, thanks,” said Eggsy, standing up to make way for a group of tourists (he had to blink hard for a moment when all the blood rushed out of his head; and he swayed from the weight of the carrier an ache at the back of his eyes.)

“Buh,” said Daisy, smiling with scrunched up eyes.

Eggsy kissed her on the top of her head. He jiggled her up and down. He tickled her shoulder. _Nu’thin_. Eggsy thought hard, chewing the inside of his lip. Maybe it had just been a hiccup. It could have been a hiccup. He squinted at Daisy, sceptical.

“Say it again.”

Daisy stared at him.

Eggsy stared back. He tried to arrange his eyebrows into the most stern expression he knew.

Daisy yawned, pointedly.

Eggsy sighed.

 

 

Half an hour later, Eggsy had grudgingly admitted defeat.

He had taken the around the whole circuit of the reptile room, and then the aviary display – past every single egg he could find in the hopes that Daisy would slip up and say something again. (" _Whats this then, Daise? What's this called? Cmon I know you know_!") But all he got were the usual burbling and a lot more yawning – until both their eyes were drooping a little from exhaustion, and it was nearing closing time.

Eggsy decided to take a short cut through the gift shop – it was the closest exit to the station and saved him having to walk all the way around through the throngs of tourists on the pavement. Plus, it was warmer, in the gift shop.

He could see the sky outside through the windows; grey and heavy.

They were half way through the aisle when Daisy perked up, and started waving her arms, straining sideways in an well-practiced attempt to get Eggsy to turn in the desired direction. Eggsy glanced in the direction she was pointing at, and saw a small display of stuffed toys; fluffy and colourful like the one she held in her hand.

“Deehhh!!!” said Daisy, loudly.

“Shh,” said Eggsy, looking about for disapproving store assistants, “Alright – okay you can look, but then we gotta head off, okay princess?”

Daisy squealed, kicking Eggsy hard in the ribs. It was amazing how much sock-clad baby toes could hurt when applied at a specific angle against specific bruises. Wincing, Eggsy reluctantly let Daisy closer to the display.

It turned out to be a huge mistake.

The toys were replicas of various animals on exhibit, including extinct dinosaur birds, woolly mammoths and a whole series of ugly fish. Daisy took one look at the ugliest of the fish, grabbed one with one flailing hand and stuff its head into her mouth.

“Daise!” said Eggsy, horrified.

He tried to pull the toy out of her hands before anyone could notice – but Diasy wasn’t used to Eggsy depriving her of anything – and she clutched onto the fish.

“ _Daisy_ ,” hissed Eggsy, scanning the shop floor, “Wh’ave we said about putting things in mouths?!”

Daisy’s eyes began to water at the tone of his voice. Her lip wobbled, dangerously.

_Oh no._

A cough, from behind him. Eggsy whirled around – forgetting that Daisy was attached to his chest and nearly knocking over the entire display of ugly fish toys. The store assistant, a middle aged woman with a silk scarf and a small metallic name tag, was standing there. Somehow, she was simultaneously frowning and smiling at the same time.

“The museum will be closing in fifteen minutes,” she said. Then she looked pointedly at the fish – which Daisy had stuffed back into her mouth, taking advantage of Eggsy’s momentarily distraction – “Any purchases should be brought to the counter now.”

The bottom dropped out of Eggsy’s stomach. He tried to smile at her.

“Alrigh’,” he said, “I’ll – give me a sec, yeah?”

“Of course,” she said, and walked back to the counter, where she continued to glance at him from behind the cashier.

Breathing out through his teeth, Eggsy took an identical ugly fish off the shelf and turned it over, looking for the price tag. What he saw nearly made him tip the entire shelf over out of sheer spite. He gave Daisy a very big frown, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in his stomach.

“Daise,” he moaned, “baby girl, this is not good.”

He bit his lip. Wondered if he could make a dash to the door – but the woman was still eyeing him from across the room. Eggsy sighed and went to retrieve his wallet from the bottom of Daisy’s carrier, emptying out all the change and notes until he managed to just get to £35.

“Would you like a bag for that?” asked the store assistant.

They both look at Daisy who was trying to fit both the hen and the fish into her mouth; pressing them both with unholy glee to her face.

“Nah,” said Eggsy, trying to resist the urge to simply lie down on the floor and sink into the earth, “Thanks.”

 

 

“You are in such big trouble,” he said half-heartedly to Daisy, once they were out on the steps. “Big trouble.”

She only grinned up at him happily, face squished between her two soft toys. Eggsy breathed out in a loose exhale, and brushed her hair back from her head.

“Right,” he said, rubbing his unbruised eye with the heel of one hand, and let his legs take him on autopilot towards the nearest tube entrance; half following a straggling crowd eager to get back to homes and hotels before the sun completely disappeared.

They made it all the way to the turnstiles.

“Oh c’mon!” said Eggsy, when said turnstile refused to move. 0.76, said the display of his oyster card. He wanted to swear, but couldn’t. He wanted to hop the turnstile, but there were too many people around. He wanted to sit down and sleep. Buggering fuck.

Pushing past the line behind him, Eggsy stopped back the way he came, up the grimy stairs, out of the station and back into the cold evening air. And the rain.

Eggsy let out a shout of sheer incredulity. Several passers-by crossed the road to avoid him.

“Gebb?” said Daisy, against his shoulder.

“ _Why,_ ” muttered Eggsy.

He looked around him, at the rapidly emptying street as the museum goers dashed for the cabs and their tour busses. Eggsy huddled at the lip of the staircases, ignoring the annoyed British noises people made as they tried to shoulder past. He peered up at the sky – perhaps it would stop raining soon and he could just wait it out.

It would take him at least two hours to walk to Jamal’s.

He stared at the ugly fish. It had sewn felt eyes. It seemed to exude smugness, even as it was being liberally drooled on. Eggsy gave it his dirtiest look, digging his phone out of his pocket. He would wait a few minutes for the rain to let up; then make a dash for it.

He waited.

And waited some more.

Overhead, thunder rumbled ominously.

“Oh fuck it,” said Eggsy, undoing his jacket and pulling it from beneath the shoulder straps of the baby carrier, right arm, followed by the left arm. He shivered in the cool air, but draped the jacket over Daisy like a tent. She giggled, looking up and pushing at the hoodie with her fish.

“I’m glad one of us finds this funny,” said Eggsy, grudgingly. “You better love me for this , flower, I swear, big bruvs’ gonna get pneumonia and die ‘cus of you.”

Taking a deep breath, he left the overhang of the station. Within moments he was drenched, water trickling down the back of his shirt, down the side of his nose and sticking to the back of his throat.

The cold was a balme on his eye at least. Eggsy tilted his head up to the rain for a moment, breathing it in.

His face was numb within seconds; and he had to bite his lip to feel the smile on them (because Daisy was still smiling at him, clutching her new toy).

Blinking the water out of his eyes, Eggsy made his way slowly towards the Serpentine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️ Thanks for being patient. I'm on break for a month so will be posting the next chapter really soon! I hope you enjoyed the big bruv feels
> 
> Also this was edited on my phone and I am beyond pissed off so whatever fucking typos U give no fucks anymore

**Author's Note:**

> next up: baby carriers/slings. 
> 
> I have many feels for big!brother Eggsy and Daisy in general. There will probably be more short fics :3


End file.
